One week from today, I fly to Arizona to help my parents set up their new house. Three weeks from tomorrow, I fly back to Connecticut to rent a truck and haul my parents' belongings all the way across the country to their new house. They've pretty much closed up the sale of our old house.

Note the distinction. Our old house. Their new house. That house in Connecticut was mine as well -- grew up in it, spent the most time there out of every place I've ever lived, and it's the only real "home base" I know. Even after I moved out to go to college and later into my own apartments, that house still retained some of me in there. It was painted with memories, insulated with years of experiences, insured by familiarity. No matter what happened, no matter how drastic life became for me, that old house in Connecticut would be there for comfort and security -- even though I never really had need for it, it was always nice to know it was there.

No longer. Not two days after I made my decision to go to California and do whatever it took to get the job I have now (which, thankfully, only required waiting an additional 2 weeks for an opening at the company), my parents called back East to tell me they'd bought the plot of land in Arizona. So not only was I leaving everything behind and going West, my parents were breaking those final ties for me as well. I wouldn't have that small place of familiarity and security anymore.

This new house, it won't be mine. My parents keep telling me it is, and they're legally correct, since they're leaving it to me in their will. So, eventually, unless they move again (which I doubt), it will eventually be mine. But, at the same time, it won't. I'm not growing up there. I have no ties to Tucson. This is their house to create their own lives without me, and while I'll go see them and that's where they'll be based, it will never be my home. It will be a house that my parents live in that I visit every now and then.

In essence, I kind of feel homeless. L.A. has become much more familiar to me over the past few months and I'm getting into life here, but I'm still having to look up where I can find certain stores and using Yahoo Maps and Mapquest to find my way to various events and locations. I don't know "the best place for [insert noun here]" yet that all the locals know about. And I'm renting an apartment that I share with two other people, so the only thing I own here and can call my own is my car. No, Los Angeles is not home. Not yet. Until then, I'm a nomad. Another Wandering Jew for the Diaspora.